Five Times Bobby and Crowley Argued
by Loki's-Phantom-x
Summary: ... Like an Old Married Couple, and One Time They Made Up. Exactly what it says. Bobby/Crowley; fluff; smut; boy kissing. R&R, x.
1. Of Hellhounds and Broken Sofas

**Five Times Bobby and Crowley Argued like an Old Married Couple  
>(and one time they made up)<strong>

**Summary**: _The title says everything. Bobby/Crowley; smut, fluff and laughs all around._

**One**

"What in the name of all that is holy has happened to my _damned couch_?"

Bobby Singer stood in the doorway to the sitting room, his eyes focussed on the demon that had now moved into his home. The demon, Crowley, looked the picture of innocence, sitting there on the armchair with a glass of Craig in his hand.

"Crowley? What happened to my couch?" Crowley looked over to the mess that could have been called a couch. It had snapped right down the middle and the cushions were torn to shreds.

"I'm sorry darling, but the hound ..."

"The _hound_? The one I gave the spare room to because he was too big for the damned kennel; that hound? He's been at my couch? Crowley, if we weren't together, I pull out the nearest shotgun and blast rock salt up your ass. Where's the damned hound now?" Bobby took a deep breath, his rant leaving him in a state of breathlessness. Crowley looked almost amused at the situation as he turned and pointed behind the couch. Bobby moved over to the mess. There was one cushion that was still mostly intact and there was a dip in it, like someone – or something – was lying on it. Crowley sighed.

"He's only a little one," the demon said. "He wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Little? God, Crowley. You been sniffing the fuel in the scrap yard? He's anything but little," Bobby yelled, promptly waking up the hellhound. It growled and leapt to its feet (Bobby couldn't see it, but if how much the floor shook was anything to go by, the hound definitely got up) and bounded over to Bobby and promptly knocked him off his feet. Bobby groaned as he was winded and was suddenly aware of a very large tongue lapping at his face.

"Crowley, get this brute off me!" Bobby said. If anyone who couldn't see the hellhound walked in and saw the scene, Bobby would be locked in an insane asylum by dinner. Suddenly Crowley was above them, grabbing the hound by the invisible scruff of the neck, pulling the mutt off of his lover. He then held out his hand, pulling Bobby to his feet.

"Get that mutt back where it belongs or I'm withholding sex," Bobby said, noting the horrified look on his lover's face.

"You wouldn't!"

"Try me, idjit."

* * *

><p><strong>I am now venturing to other pairings in the fandom. Hope you like. :)<strong>


	2. Of Shotguns and Whiskey

**Five Times Bobby and Crowley Argued like an Old Married Couple  
>(and one time they made up)<strong>

**Summary**: _The title says everything. Bobby/Crowley; smut, fluff and laughs all around._

**Two**

"CROWLEY?"

The demon sighed from where he sat on the porch, taking one last long drag from his cigarette before flicking the stub into the dirt and stamping on it. He got up and turned to head into the kitchen.

"Yes, love?" he said, as Bobby came stomping into the kitchen.

"Don't you 'love' me, princess! Where has all my cheap crap whiskey gone?" Bobby asked, his arms folding over his chest.

"Darling, you've probably inhaled it all. I've seen you with that whiskey. Bottles don't stand a chance. Plus I told you to switch to the good stuff," Crowley said, sitting down at the kitchen table.

"I can't afford the stuff you drink ..."

"Who says you need to afford it?" Crowley said, with a wink. "I know a few people ..."

"Crowley, that's not the point. Those were my bottles of whiskey," Bobby said, sitting down opposite Crowley. "You know what, never mind. Next time I find a bottle of your stuff lying around, the shit's going down the sink."

"You wouldn't?" Crowley said, his eyes narrowing at Bobby. "Come on, love, don't be like this."

"Then what did you do with my whiskey ...?" he asked. Crowley looked everywhere but at Bobby. "Crowley?"

"While you were out on a supply run, I might have lined them up along the bonnet of an old rust heap outside and practised my shooting with your shotgun," Crowley said, running a hand over his neck and he felt Bobby's piercing gaze go right through him.

"You did WHAT?"

"I said ..."

"I know what you said, sunshine, but why?" Bobby asked, trying not to get angry. "I told you when you moved in. You live here, you respect my things or it will be worse than my boot up your sorry ass." Crowley sighed.

"I don't know why I did it, love. Boredom? Probably. But I'm sorry, okay," he said. "Can I get a kiss now since I said I was sorry?" Bobby scoffed and stood from his chair.

"Not a snowballs chance in hell, Crowley. Not until you get me some more whiskey," he said before he stomped back through to the living room, sitting down on his chair at his desk and going about his searching for lore for the Winchester's. Crowley sighed and moved out the back door for another fag.

**-x-**

Bobby woke up next morning to see that Crowley's side of the bed was empty. He hadn't meant to get so mad at Crowley the day before, and it wasn't like Crowley to go in a strop. He'd drop in some dry sarcastic humour and then there would be make up sex. Bobby climbed out of bed, grabbing for his jeans, pulling them on before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

"Crowley?"

The sight in the kitchen made him suddenly smile. There, standing in a neat row on the kitchen table, were five bottles of his cheap crap whiskey, the middle bottle had a bow and a note attached to it. Bobby reached out and took the note. It read:

_Can I get a kiss now?_

Bobby couldn't help the smile that formed on his face. That damned demon was going to be the death of him.

* * *

><p><strong>Gotta love these two. :)<strong>


	3. Of Broken Toasters and Chocolate Spread

**Five Times Bobby and Crowley Argued like an Old Married Couple  
>(and one time they made up)<strong>

**Summary**: _The title says everything. Bobby/Crowley; smut, fluff and laughs all around._

**Three**

It was around three o'clock in the morning when Bobby was suddenly woken by the smell of burning. He sat bolt right up in bed, his eyes squinting through the darkness. It was far too early for this shit, he thought to himself. He was ready to jump out of bed when he caught a figure in the darkness sitting in the bed next to him. Bobby turned his lamp on, turning to see Crowley sitting there in bed, more than likely naked, munching very happily on a piece of almost completely black toast. Crowley watched his lover for a moment, looking a little guilty that he had been caught.

"Crowley?"

"Do you want some?" Crowley asked, with a full mouth. He offered his plate over to his lover, the burnt toast slathered with chocolate spread, a very guilty pleasure of the demons.

"No, I don't. What I do want to know is why my house smells like it's on fire?" he asked, trying to keep calm at the situation. He stared at the demon, who took another bite of his toast, a little chocolate spread settling in the corner of his mouth. Bobby was doing his best not to kiss it off. That would defeat the purpose of his annoyance.

"Oh, the toaster setting was too high. It kind of broke," Crowley said. Bobby fell back against his pillows, running a hand over his eyes in frustration. The demon was certainly a piece of work to live with.

"I'll fix it ..." he said.

"Too late; I already gave it to the hound as a chew toy," he said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do with a broken toaster.

"You really piss me off sometimes, you know that?" Bobby said, reaching over to switch the light off again, trying to ignore the smell of the smoke coming from downstairs. He turned away from Crowley muttering something about 'fucking demons' as he got himself comfortable again. There was the noise of the plate being put down on the nightstand before Crowley settled down to sleep again, snuggling into the hunter's back. Bobby didn't say anything. He shifted slightly to get a little more comfortable, feeling a sudden uncomfortable scratch against his skin.

"Crowley?"

"Hmm?"

"You've got _crumbs_ in the fucking bed."

* * *

><p><strong>Haha, trust Crowley, eh? ;)<br>**


	4. Of Bonfires and Armani

**Five Times Bobby and Crowley Argued like an Old Married Couple  
>(and one time they made up)<strong>

**Summary**: _The title says everything. Bobby/Crowley; smut, fluff and laughs all around._

**Four**

"Bobby?" Crowley asked as he moved into the kitchen. He'd been looking for the elder hunter for ten minutes and still no sign of him. "Bobby?" If anyone had seen the demon at that particular moment, they would laugh at him. You see, he couldn't find any of his suits, so he walked around in a pair of Bobby's old holey jeans and a t-shirt with a flannel shirt open over the top. He would say he looked ridiculous and anyone who knew him would probably say the same. "Robert Singer, where in the name of Hell are you?" That was when he smelt the burning. He headed to the back door, opening it and moving out onto the porch. Bobby was standing over by an old rust heap of a car, a large upturned metal can in front of him with some sort of bonfire going on.

"Bobby, what are you doing, love?" he asked. He smirked at the situation before he saw Bobby bring up a piece of cloth and rip it in two before throwing it in the bonfire.

"Just having a clear out," he said, almost innocently. Crowley narrowed his eyes when he saw Bobby bend down to pick up the next thing. A jacket.

In particular, _his_ suit jacket.

His _Armani_ suit jacket.

"BOBBY!" he shouted before almost leaping from the porch to the upturned can just as Bobby sent a pair of scissors cutting through the material. "What the hell, Bobby?"

"You live here with me. You help me fix up the old piles of rust I've got going here. You don't need fancy suits, Crowley," he said. "You look good with what you have on now." Crowley looked down at himself.

"You are burning my ARMANI suits, Bobby. _Armani_! Don't you know how _expensive_ they are?" he asked, his hands almost shaking as Bobby sent the severed sleeves into the can, the flames licking at them immediately, setting them alight. Crowley watched them burn. "There was no need for this, Bobby."

"I ..." Bobby started, reaching down to the ground once more to take one last thing out of the black bag. It was one complete suit; trousers, shirt, tie and jacket, all together on the same hanger. "... will let you keep this one, but under no circumstances are you allowed to wear it in the house unless we have to go on a job or a special occasion, but I doubt that will come round." Crowley was pouting, literally pouting, as Bobby held the suit out to him.

"You are a _huge_ dick, Robert Singer ..." Crowley said, grabbing the suit from the hunter before it was next into the flames. "I think it's my turn to withhold sex from _you_."

"You'd still be the first one to crack, _love_," Bobby said, almost chuckling. "Stop being such a whiney bitch, Crowley, and man up. You were the King of Hell for Christ's sake." Crowley pouted again and almost stomped back into the house, slamming the door behind him, the hellhound waking and now barking loudly at having been disturbed. Bobby just shrugged his shoulders, laughing to himself.

"Gotta love him, really."

* * *

><p><strong>Go Bobby! Haha 3<strong>


	5. Of Laptops and Porn

**Five Times Bobby and Crowley Argued like an Old Married Couple  
>(and one time they made up)<strong>

**Summary**: _The title says everything. Bobby/Crowley; smut, fluff and laughs all around._

**Five**

"Bobby, did I leave my laptop here last time we stopped by?" Sam asked, searching around Bobby's living room. He, Dean and Castiel had all stopped by, needing Bobby's help with some new research. Bobby looked around for a moment.

"I saw it around here somewhere," he said, lifting piles of books and papers to reveal Sam's computer. "Here you go, boy." He handed the computer over to the younger Winchester, who sat down at Bobby's desk and opened it up, starting up the machine. Dean sat down on the chair next to the desk.

"So what are you guys hunting now?" Bobby asked.

"Not sure yet, we're still at the stage where we try to figure out what the goddamn thing is," Dean sighed. "Cas doesn't know what it is either. Some help he is."

"I said I was sorry, Dean," Castiel said from next to the elder Winchester. Dean chuckled and wrapped his arm around his angel's waist.

"I know, Cas. I was kidding," he said, resting his head against Castiel's hip. Bobby grimaced at how sickly sweet they were. They were gonna end up giving him cavities.

"What the hell?" Sam suddenly said, a look of pure disgust on his face. "There ...ew ... there is gay porn all over this computer. Dean, did you use it before I left it here?" Dean's face also contorted into one of disgust.

"Dude, I might be dating an angel, but gay porn is not really my style," Dean said. Sam looked over at Bobby.

"Don't look at me."

Then all four men stared at each other for a moment in realisation.

"CROWLEY!" they cried in unison. It took a few moments before Crowley appeared in the living room, sitting on his space in the couch that was perfectly indented with his arse print.

"Not one but four gorgeous men. Thank you, Satan. What have I done to deserve this?" he said, before suddenly noting the bitch face that Sam was throwing him. "Okay, moose. What have I done to piss you off this time? I don't have your soul so Satan only knows what it could be."

"You have been downloading gay porn all over my computer," Sam said. "I need this for hunts. What I don't need is to see the many different flexible positions two men can get into."

"Castiel can get his legs..." Dean started before Sam yelled 'DUDE! NO!'

"Crowley can ..." Bobby began before both Dean and Sam covered their ears, not really wanting to know what their surrogate father got up to with a demon.

"So what if I did go on your computer, moose. You don't even have any decent porn of your own. I mean, come on," Crowley said. Sam stared at Bobby, his face reading '_get your damn demon boyfriend told_.' Bobby sighed deeply.

"Crowley come on, we talked about this. Respect things that ain't yours and we'll get along just dandy in here," the elder hunter said, grabbing a bottle of his cheap crap whiskey and taking mouthful before handing the bottle over to Dean.

"Oh, Bobby, don't you start. You really get pissed off with me being around here, don't you? If it's not the hound, it's the couch; if it's not the couch, it's the toaster; if it's not the toaster it's crumbs in the bed. Can I do anything right around here?" he said.

"Now you wait a minute, Crowley ..." Bobby said.

"Save it, darling," he said, before he promptly disappeared.

"God, what are you two? An old married couple?" Dean asked. Bobby took a deep sigh before sitting down in the spot that had been occupied by Crowley just moments ago.

"Sure feels like it."

* * *

><p><strong>Go make it up to him, Bobby ;)<strong>


	6. And One Time They Made Up

**Five Times Bobby and Crowley Argued like an Old Married Couple  
>(and one time they made up)<strong>

**Summary**: _The title says everything. Bobby/Crowley; smut, fluff and laughs all around._

**Six**

_**(This chapter contains non graphic male/male sex, but I thought I'd warn you anyway just in case you don't like that.)**_

Bobby stood outside his house, waving the Winchester's and Castiel off as they moved off to kill the creature they had researched. Now to find that damned moody demon. Bobby moved inside, closing and locking the door behind him before moving upstairs towards his and Crowley's bedroom. He pushed open the door to see a shape under their duvet. It was rather late, Bobby thought, so he wasn't really surprised to see Crowley in bed, although the demon usually waited on his lover.

"Crowley?"

There was no answer.

"Crowley?"

"What?" Bobby sighed and sat on the end of the bed, toeing off his shoes. The demon didn't turn to face him. He kept his back to Bobby, staring at the wall.

"You know I love ya, right?" Bobby said. Those words made Crowley turn to face his lover, his brow knitted in adorable confusion. He and Bobby stared at each other for a few moments before Crowley spoke.

"You've never said that to me before," Crowley said, suddenly sounding so innocent and childlike, something Bobby had never heard before. Bobby couldn't help but smile at the demon. He stood and removed his flannel shirt and dropped his jeans before climbing into bed beside the demon.

"I yell at you because you piss me off, sure. But I yell at you because I didn't want to admit that I had any chick flick feelings for you. Sure, you live here and the sex is great ..."

"Amen to that ..."

"... but I didn't want to admit anything past that. I'm getting old, Crowley. Things like that just don't happen like that for me anymore. Not in the life I lead," the elder hunter said. "So when I yell at you, don't take it to heart. Not that you'd take it to heart anyway, just I feel like I've been yelling more at you than anything else these past few days." Crowley laughed from next to Bobby, rolling over to the hunter and burying his face in his shoulder.

"I suppose you're forgiven, if that's what you're asking," he said, with a naughty smirk on his face. Bobby smiled back, ready to close his eyes and fall asleep when suddenly he felt the demon's soft lips on his own. Bobby kissed the demon back, feeling like it had been forever since they'd done this. Which it kind of was. Bobby had spent so much time getting angry at the demon and his hound and his damn mannerisms. But when he was kissing the demon, he couldn't be mad about anything. Crowley kissed him deeper, undressing the hunter quickly, and, within moments and with quick preparation, was buried deep inside the hunter.

"Fucking hell, Crowley ..." the hunter moaned, probably leaving bruises on the demon's shoulder from his death grip he had on him. Crowley just grinned before pressing another kiss to Bobby's lips, biting and moaning deeply as they moved together as one. Crowley thrust hard against the older hunter, listening to him pant and groan. This was the only time Crowley _loved_ to hear Bobby shout his name. Their bodies moved together fast and hard before orgasm took over and they cried out each other's names before collapsing, spent, on the bed.

"You know, you're gonna end up giving me a heart attack," Bobby said, trying to get his breath back. Crowley just laughed into the pillow next to Bobby; a deep, rumbling, belly laugh that made Bobby's smile go from ear to ear.

"And that's why I love you back, Robert Singer. You're a morbid bastard."

"Idjit."

* * *

><p><strong>Yay! Finished this. Hope you guys like this 3<strong>


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